Painted Trees
by silvermoonstone23
Summary: The trees all around were bare, but as they grew into spring, they would bud with new leaves, blossom with new flowers. Any scars left by a harsh winter would melt into a spring filled with sunlight and warm rain. Drew and May could change too. Together, they could change to be the people they wanted to be. [Contestshipping & Pokeshipping one-shot, happy birthday Yalla-san!]


_"You can count on me  
Like one, two, three;  
I'll be there.  
And I know when I need it  
I can count on you  
Like four, three, two;  
You'll be there.  
'Cause that's what friends are s'posed to do, ah-yeah."_

* * *

"Look, Misty! It's snowing!"

Misty didn't even glance up. "That's great, Ash. Now go fix that tree."

Set designing was duller than he'd thought it would be, Ash Ketchum decided. He had hoped that maybe he would seem like a better student t if he helped out with the sets for the school's production of the world-renowned play _Discovering Curtis_. He had hoped maybe he could spend a little more time with his friend Misty.

But no.

"Misty, I'm so bored!"

It was just tedious.

Misty groaned from where she sat on the ground, painting away. "If you complain one more time, I will find a sack of meatballs and throw them at you."

From beside her, her unnaturally quiet best friend piped up, "Why meatballs?"

"Because." Misty swiped a green brush across a board serving as a tree.

May blinked. "Can't you just tell him to shut up?"

"That wouldn't be as fun."

Ash sighed and shoved a hand through his spiky hair, then picked up a brush and resumed the painting. Being on the painting committee with violent Misty, tardy Drew, and stoic May and sitting in a classroom painting after school was not exactly what he would call stimulating. The classroom's heating was broken too, like most of the classrooms, which made it constantly frigid. _Damn polar vortex,_ Ash thought. _Why do the jet streams have to make everything so damn cold? _Still, he had hoped that the tufts of snow drifting down might be a good distraction, but unfortunately, he thought wrong.

"Sorry I'm late!"

Enter Drew Hayden. Tall, handsome, and a salad head. The only thing more prominent than his constant tardiness and irritating personality was his ego.

The girls ignored him but Ash gave off a little wave, so Drew sunk down next to him and took up some of the painting.

After what seemed like an eternity to Ash (but was actually about five minutes) he grunted and shoved the tree away. "I cannot take this silence. I'm going to—"

"Do anything funny and I will freeze a banana and hit you over the head with it," Misty interjected nonchalantly.

"I was just going to say turn on music, but fine then." Ash crossed his arms, held Misty's icy gaze, and eventually—reluctantly—turned to accenting the tree with different shades of green, all the while thinking, _Why does this play need so many damn trees?_

But eventually, Ash became so restless that an evil plan formed in his mind. He nudged Drew. "You okay with May?" he whispered.

Drew's eyes bulged to the size of dinner plates. "What?"

"Great," Ash mumbled absent-mindedly. He shoved himself up and immediately the girls turned to look at him. But before either of them could react, he closed the space between him and them in a few strides, easily lifted Misty up, and threw her carelessly over his shoulder.

Misty squeaked in surprise, then immediately began kicking and screaming. "Put me down!"

"Hmm…" Ash tapped his chin. "I'm gonna go with no."

Misty gazed over at her best friend for assistance, but May just shrugged. She figured Misty could do with a little kicking back for once. "Traitor!" Misty shouted as Ash carried her out the door of the classroom, with one last wave over his shoulder.

Though he didn't dare glance back, Ash felt a little guilty for leaving Drew behind, and especially with silent May Maple.

The girl who never smiled.

* * *

May used to smile. She used to grin and beam and laugh and giggle and twirl like any other bubbly high school girl. She used to be noticed. And then, slowly, ever so slowly, she faded. Nobody paid much thought to it, and you would only ever notice how particularly strange and sad and quiet she was if you spent great lengths of time with her. Which Drew and Ash had.

Drew's gaze flickered to her after Ash and Misty had left, their shouts echoing down the school hallway. To her bright, clear blue eyes that glinted like sapphires. To her chocolate hair. To her pink lips that had not twisted upwards in a very long time.

May noticed his stare after a few seconds and turned to him. For a moment, they looked at each other silently, tensely. Then May looked down and broke the connection, severing whatever had just sparked in that look.

She was colder than the polar vortex.

Once upon a time, Drew and May had had classes together. He had never really thought much about it, but he guessed they were sort of friends back then. But then they had had different schedules and didn't really talk. But he remembered that time. That was about midway through her wilting. He guessed that maybe she was just stressed or something was going on, but she just didn't seem to have the heart to move those few muscles and twist her lips into a smile.

"You know, maybe we should be painting these trees white," Drew tried jokingly.

No reaction.

_Damn._

It wouldn't have really mattered, but something about May always intrigued Drew. From the secure way she held herself, to the way she could slide in and out of places undetected, to the way that something about her seemed so different, so _real._

Drew knew his reputation. He knew people talked, and not everything people said about him was great. Some people (cough, Ash) thought he was a bit full of himself. Usually, that didn't bother him. But, for some reason, he didn't want May to think like that. He wanted her to think of him like…

_Like someone she can count on._

He wasn't sure where that thought came from, but suddenly it was there. He stole another glance at her as she patiently painted, her attention completely concentrated on sweeping the brush across the wooden board. She was so focused that it was…

_Cute._

It was really cute.

In actuality, her pink sweater made her stand out against the white light filtering into the room from the blanket of clouds outside like a spring flower poking through the snow.

Drew realized he was staring, felt heat rise to his cheeks for a fraction of a moment, then turned away to glance at the window. The snow had turned to rain, and none of it had stuck to the ground. _So maybe…the polar vortex can be thawed?_

He turned back to May. "So, um, do you know this play?"

May lifted her head, looking confused as to why he would try to start a conversation. "Not really."

Drew nodded. "Me either. It's pretty well-known, though. I guess. I didn't really think that the trees were a big part."

"I guess they need something for the background."

"Yeah."

Silence.

_This really is not working, _Drew thought. He sighed and started again. "So do you do a lot of art?"

"Some," she replied distantly, clearly not really wanting a part of the conversation. "Why?"

He shrugged. "Well you're painting sets and you used to draw all over your notebooks in freshman year, so I just figured."

Her spellbinding azure eyes widened. "You remember that?" He nodded. She stared down at the brush sitting comfortably in her hands, fiddling with it. "Yeah, I guess I like to paint…"

"What do you paint?" He really didn't mean to pry, he just wanted to talk.

She shrugged. "Scenery. I'm not very good with people, so I paint the sky and water and flowers and…" She paused. "And trees."

Drew rolled his eyes and smiled. "So that's why yours look so real and mine look like something out of a cartoon."

"I guess so."

Damn. Why couldn't he crack her? If he couldn't even get a chuckle out of her this way, he'd have to use a more direct approach.

"Why don't you ever smile?"

"What?"

Okay, too direct.

"Er, I mean," he stuttered, "you just don't seem to anymore. You're quieter."

For once, May Maple was absolutely stunned. Nobody had ever really asked that so forwardly, he guessed. Until him.

She looked down again, avoiding his gaze. _Apparently the floor tiles are more interesting than my face, _Drew thought in a very disgruntled manner.

"I just…I don't know," she replied. "I mean I guess you're right. I don't smile. Or laugh. There's not even a reason, I just—I must be sick or something because everything is fine, and yet, there's a part of me that's just not happy." To Drew's dismay, those magnificent eyes of hers grew watery.

"I get what you mean," he said quickly. "I mean, life's rough. I know that I for one am lucky to have what I have, but sometimes there's just that part of you that's…sad for no reason. Or maybe there is a reason and you feel like it's not worth attention. It's like…it's like a set!" he realized suddenly. "The set of a play. Nobody ever pays attention to it if it's fine; it's only when it's ugly that people notice. But the set designers see the sets. They're affected by them, since they made them." He paused. "That didn't really make sense. But you get it."

May nodded and puffed out a breath. "But…I just…I don't even know if I _can _smile at this point."

"Of course you can," Drew said softly. He stood and knelt on the ground next to May. Then he stretched out his hands and lifted the sides of her mouth manually so that it looked like a strained smile. "There you go." But as he let her mouth go—it fell back into a frown—his hands lingered, cupping the sides of her face. Her soft, rosy cheeks. Staring into those entrancing eyes. Before he realized it, he'd already leaned in and pressed his lips against hers.

He pulled back, startled by his own actions. "Sorry. I—"

"No, it's fine," she interrupted. "Really. It was nice."

"Oh. Okay then."

"I've just…" she let out a breath, "I've just been so afraid that I won't ever be able to be a happy person again. And that if I do try to smile, it will be fake. I don't want to be fake. It's silly, but I'm just so afraid."

Drew nodded solemnly, his thumbs gently brushing away the wetness under her eyes. "I know the feeling. I used to have a fear of hurdles, but then eventually I got over it."

For one single moment May stared at him, and then she did the last thing he expected.

She erupted in giggles.

_Giggles._

Which turned to laughter; melodious laughter, freed after being pent-up for far too long. She had the most beautiful laughter he had ever heard. It was like music filtering through the air.

"Of all things," Drew mumbled. "I never thought I'd get you on _that _one."

May couldn't keep the grin off her face, and she threw her arms around Drew, burying her face in his neck. "Thank you," she whispered.

Golden light filtered into the room through the windows, and Drew gazed outside to see the sun poking out finally. The grey clouds had melded with streaks of bright cerulean sky, almost like a painting. The trees all around were bare, but as they grew into spring, they would bud with new leaves, blossom with new flowers. Any scars left by a harsh winter would melt into a spring filled with sunlight and warm rain.

Drew and May could change too. Together, hand-in-hand, they could change to be the people they wanted to be; the smiling, laughing people they really were. The people who would take chances or try new things (including going to see a play they didn't know, if only to admire the painted trees.)

* * *

**Epilogue:**

The school's production of _Discovering Curtis _was a smashing success, and the set designers received many compliments for their sets.

Drew and May became a happy couple (though Ash often mocked them for how goofy they were together.) May figured out how to draw people by using Drew as a—rather reluctant—model. And no matter how many times May tries to teach him, Drew's drawings are still squiggly and awkward and strange, but that only makes May laugh more.

And if anyone was wondering, Ash had dragged Misty to get frozen yogurt that day. They talked through the afternoon and a few months later, Ash asked Misty to prom. (She said yes.)

* * *

_A/N:  
HAPPY BIRTHDAY YALLA-SAN! Thought I forgot, didn't you? Too bad, I didn't :P  
I seriously have no idea where this story came from. Initially, I had a couple different ideas, and then I started one, and it completely morphed and turned into this.  
Anyways, thank you so much for being an awesome writer/leader of our studio. I know you'll continue to write amazing stories and lead our studio to success and many projects in the future. PokeFanficStudios is lucky to have you as our founder. We know we can count on you~!  
So have an amazing birthday and many more to come! :D  
-Silvia 3_

_(Thank you all for reading ^-^)_

**Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon or anything else.**


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